


Whilst The Sun Rises

by Guardian_Rose



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Post-Quest of the Ring, little angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26068789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian_Rose/pseuds/Guardian_Rose
Summary: “You never asked who woke me up,” Sam says eventually, causing Frodo to frown in confusion.“No. I did not.”“Perhaps you should.”Frodo leans away enough to look at him quizzically. Sam’s expression doesn’t give anything away.“Who?”“It was Lady Arwen. She brought me breakfast and asked to talk.”This doesn’t help clear anything up for Frodo. Does the opposite in fact. Piling more questions on top of what had already been a hefty dose of confusion. It doesn’t help that it’s near impossible for Frodo to imagine Sam waking up to find Arwen at the door, a tray of fruits and breads or whatever it was they’d eaten. Considering Sam being still in his nightshirt right now, the situation was even harder to picture.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel/Arwen Undómiel, Frodo Baggins/Sam Gamgee, mentioned:
Comments: 6
Kudos: 40





	Whilst The Sun Rises

The shirt is too tight. 

It pulls at the hairs at the back of his neck, the collar rubbing and rubbing. Not quite pain, the healing burns and general injury the chain left around his neck is untouched by the higher fashion of collar but it is still tripping in its haste to cross lines he didn’t realise were set in stone. Too tight. Too much pressure wrapping round and round and round. Choking. 

Frodo watches himself in the mirror. 

One can’t blame the seamstress or whoever it is currently poking pins through fabric and being ever so careful not to prick his skin. Frodo cannot blame them for not noticing the pain he’s in for, if he were to only see his reflection and not feel a breath of what is racing through his veins, his mind, then he too would think nothing was wrong. Eyes blink. Lungs inflate. He shifts his weight ever so slightly from one foot to the other. Fingers twitch to reach up for a chain, a ring, a burden that is no longer there. No. He would not be able to tell from his appearance. 

Still. The shirt is too tight.

The man crouches down to fiddle with the hem of the shirt and Frodo takes the opportunity to clear his throat. The man is not stupid. Frodo should have tried harder to remember his name, to extend his thoughts beyond himself. He shall try to catch it later.

“Would you like to take a break, sir?” the man asks and Frodo nods, not trusting his voice.

The man nods in return and starts to carefully remove the shirt without dislodging pins. Frodo does his best to shield the extreme relief he feels at having that top button undone. He holds his breath. Keeps his eyes open, trained on his reflection. Only when the man has turned around, folding the shirt carefully, does Frodo let everything flow through him. Well. Not everything, not quite. But the relief, the escape, the freedom to breathe deep and not be constrained, constricted, choked… that he lets roll over him. 

Frodo excuses himself politely, having regained as much composure as he can reign in at the moment. The way is not yet entirely familiar. The curves of Minas Tirith curl round and round inside and out. Only Gimli appears to have an unwavering certainty in where he’s going at any time. Stone sense working well in a city carved from a mountainside. Even Aragorn has lost his way many a time since the end of the… since the end. However, Frodo knows the way to the room he shares with Sam. Knows his way to Sam.

He slips quietly through the door, wary of accidentally waking Sam who slept not at all the night before; plagued with his own nightmares and Frodo’s to boot. Sam isn’t asleep in the too big bed though. He’s standing at the window, curtains pulled open to look out over the courtyard and city below, arms wrapped loosely around himself. Frodo watches, just for a moment. An indulgence of sorts. Sam’s hair lit up softly in the sunlight, his shoulders set in their unwavering strength. Frodo’s heart nestled in that warm chest next to Sam’s own. Safe. The nightshirt, a proper one made for hobbits in the comfortable hobbit style, hangs off of Sam in places; a surer sign than any that he hasn’t yet fully physically recovered from the quest. He’s beautiful. 

“Frodo?” 

Sam turns to look over his shoulder. The dark shadows under his eyes are deep enough to rival Frodo’s own. 

“It’s me, Sam,” he assures, crossing the room to stand next to him, looking out the window even as Sam continues to watch  _ him _ . “I thought you would still be sleeping else I would have brought some breakfast.”

Sam’s smile is bright enough to draw Frodo’s gaze. The nudge into his shoulder unnecessary to gain his attention but affectionately received all the same.

“Nah, it’s fine. I already ate.”

Frodo hums, not entirely believing. There were no plates or bowls in the room so either someone had been very efficient in delivering the meal or Sam had only accepted a little before sending the servant away to eat it themselves as a gift of sorts. 

“How was the fitting? That was this morning, right?”

Frodo nods, turning back to the window as he drops his head onto Sam’s shoulder. Sam’s arm comes up to bracket around his back, hand resting lightly on his hip, thumb tracing circles. “Fine. It was fine.”

Now it’s Sam’s turn to hum, not at all believing such thin honesty. Frodo bites back a smile as Sam voices his thoughts.

“Everything a bit ornate for you? I know it is going to be for me but it is Aragorn’s wedding.”

“It’s all very…” Frodo sighs, closing his eyes to try to make it easier to speak it all aloud. “Tight. The shirt was tight.”

Sam’s ministrations pause momentarily before resuming, with less pressure which makes Frodo huff and dig his forehead into Sam’s shoulder. Sam gets the hint and resumes as before. 

“You never asked who woke me up,” Sam says eventually, causing Frodo to frown in confusion.

“No. I did not.”

“Perhaps you should.”

Frodo leans away enough to look at him quizzically. Sam’s expression doesn’t give anything away. 

“Who?”

“It was Lady Arwen. She brought me breakfast and asked to talk.”

This doesn’t help clear anything up for Frodo. Does the opposite in fact. Piling more questions on top of what had already been a hefty dose of confusion. It doesn’t help that it’s near impossible for Frodo to imagine Sam waking up to find Arwen at the door, a tray of fruits and breads or whatever it was they’d eaten. Considering Sam being still in his nightshirt right now, the situation was even harder to picture.

“Talk about what?”

“She wanted to tell me, and by extension you, that we are allowed to dress ourselves for the wedding if the tailored clothes aren’t to our liking. Or ask the tailors to make an outfit more suited to us than trying to dress in the fashions of men.” Sam smiles at Frodo then, catching the relief simmering in Frodo’s expression. “We’re not to tell Aragorn, though. He already had some, I’m told severe, words with the tailors for trying to force Arwen into something designed for a woman rather than an elf as she is.”

“She really came to tell you that?” Frodo asks, still struggling to play it out in his head.

“Aye, she did.” Sam nods and Frodo decides it’s best to simply give up and trust in Sam. It’s always so much easier to trust Sam than not. “We can send a note to the tailors before lunch, if you want?”

Frodo nods, smiling. “Yes. We’ll do that. Thank you.”

Sam smiles back, sweet and warm and everything that signifies home to Frodo. He settles back in against Sam’s side, wrapping his arms around each other, and together they watch as the wind dances in the flowering boughs of the white tree.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing these characters, not quite got a hang of speech syntax and patterns yet so bear with me on that front.
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3
> 
> No beta, all mistakes my own
> 
> Prompts welcome here and on my writing tumblr [WordToTheRose ](https://wordtotherose.tumblr.com/) or come say hi on my main [Guardian-Rose-Petal](https://guardian-rose-petal.tumblr.com/)


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